The Fragility of Openness
by FeltonObessions
Summary: Voldemort's heir arrives at Hogwarts, but there is something wrong with her. Something is terribly wrong with Arabella Riddle, but nobody knows it, no one even realizes. Nobody, that is, except for Draco Malfoy. He knows, but will he be enough to help her
1. Liv Arabella

It was a silent day today at Malum castle, as was not usually the case. It's thick stone walls stood strong, secluding all that was inside the fortress from the world outside.

Inside the castle's vast walls sat a girl, a very important girl. The girl was perfect, in a sense, yet flawed. It was amazing how much this girl knew, how much she was capable of, yet most would not know of such things. She was wonderful at all that she did, but only because she had to be.

This very girl was possibly the most important of her time, to some, but to others, she was simply the worst thing to be heard of. Only a select few knew of her duties, of her title, but all would know eventually.

Her first name was Liv, but most just called her by her middle name of Arabella. In formal occasions, perhaps, Liv was more common, but at most times Arabella was sufficient.

Arabella's blood, the purest blood of all magic folk, had always been tinted with royalty. Perhaps the most unknown and unimaginable scandal in the times of Queen Mary, in the early nineteenth century; her son, Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester, had actually had an affair with the pureblood witch Elise Riddle. That would, of course, lead one to believe that Liv Arabella's blood was not entirely pure, how foolish that would be.

This leads us to the biggest scandal in the times of the House of Windsor; magic. The royal family had always been heavily involved in magic, and they had been one of the oldest magical families in the entire world, that is, until Queen Elizabeth II ascended the throne. It was only during her ruling that the royal family separated itself from magic forever, taking an unbreakable vow.

Arabella was still royalty, though, but among the first of it in her entire family. Arabella was royalty, but not the royalty that most would imagine, she was not in any way British royalty, no, she was a part of something much bigger than that. She was the heir to a different crown, the crown of Death; the Dark Throne.

'The Dark Lady, Liv Arabella Riddle', a title. Arabella liked the sound of that, or 'The Dark Lordess', as her father called her.

The blood that flowed through her veins may have been tinted royal, yes, but it was different from anyone else's in the world.

Arabella was a very beautiful girl, classically beautiful, in a sense. Her hair was long, ending just below her shoulders, and was colored dark brown. Her hair, that long, dark brown hair, was possibly the only thing that she inherited from her father, physically. The rest of her physical appearance came from her mother, Danica Lidette. She was tall and thin, but hardly curvaceous. She had striking blue eyes and pale skin, and she was unbelievably beautiful, in a classic sense, of course.

Arabella's father had killed her mother, Danica, when Arabella was only two years old. Arabella knew little of her mother, except that she had been a very beautiful and powerful woman, much like herself. People often told her how much like her mother she was, but her father wouldn't hear a word of it.

Arabella had always lived with her father, inside Malum castle, and she had never attended a proper school before. Her father, the Dark Lord himself, thought it best that she master all of the necessary skills before being sent to school, she was, after all, the legacy.

Arabella was only as cruel as was necessary for her job, though she did not have any trouble killing a person. A skill, she guessed, that she had acquired from her father.

Arabella Riddle, perfect yet flawed.


	2. The Festum Sanguis

Arabella lay silently on her bed at Malum castle, watching the world pass by through the window of her seventh story bedroom.

_'Arabella'_, the sound drifted to her ears from outside of her bedroom door, over and over again her name was repeated by someone unknown.

The light rapping on her door was becoming more and more urgent, louder and clearer. _'Arabella'_

Arabella was a rare sort of person, in that she did have patience. She may not have been the most patient person inside, but patience for any worthy being had been wired into her brain since she had been old enough to take lessons.

_'Arabella'_, continued the strange voice from outside her door, and the knocking grew louder.

With a light, feminine sigh, Arabella lifted herself gracefully from her bed, walking gently towards the door.

The person outside the door was not her father, she knew that, it couldn't have been, because he would not have knocked on the door before entering. No, it must have been somebody beneath her, somebody rather unimportant, as they had thought to respect her privacy.

She grasped the door handle firmly and opened the door slowly, looking to see who it was that was waiting for her on the other side. _Narcissa Malfoy._

Arabella had never really minded Narcissa, she had found her rather tolerable, actually, but Arabella was used to dealing with people much worse than the Malfoys.

"Narcissa, a pleasure." Greeted Arabella, the perfectly flawed young girl.

"The pleasure _is_ all mine, Miss Riddle. I must ask you, though, if you've forgotten about our arrangement today, as you do not look dressed for an outing." Asked Narcissa with pursed lips. It was funny how all of the Death Eaters treated Arabella, she could tell that they grew annoyed by her mere presence at times, but they were never allowed to voice their thoughts on the matter.

"Narcissa, I thought that I'd had Nott tell you that I wasn't going to be able to make it to our little meeting, did he not reach you?" asked Arabella, raising one perfectly sculpted eye brow.

"You did, Arabella, but I also believe that I had him return a message, did you not receive that message?" asked Narcissa, pursing her lips.

"I did not," replied Arabella calmly, waiting for Narcissa to elaborate.

"Well, your father has pushed the date of the ball up to tomorrow, so your rescheduled date really would not have fit in with the dates firmly set for the occasion." Answered Narcissa, frowning lightly.

"I'll have to see to Nott about his failed delivery of a simple message, then, and I'll just go and change into something more suitable. Excuse me," came Arabella's response as she turned back to her bedroom, shutting the door lightly behind her.

The date was scheduled for her and Narcissa to go to Diagon Alley and pick out a suitable outfit for the Festum Sanguis.

Festum Sanguis, or _Festival of Blood_, was an annual event for the Death Eaters. It was more of a ritual than a festival, a very dark ritual. During the Festum Sanguis, one 'lucky' Death Eater would be given the 'honor' of torturing and, in turn, killing a muggle, while all of the other Death Eaters watched.

This year it was Arabella who would receive the so-called honor, but she was not as excited as most Death Eaters would have been. She was, of course, very proud to be given the chance to do this, as most Death Eaters waited their entire lives to receive the honor, but she wasn't nearly as overcome with glee as most would have been.

Narcissa was going to be taking her to an expensive new boutique in Diagon Alley that day, where she was to purchase a completely white dress, as was customary of the 'Letum Affero', or 'Giver of Death'. She supposed that this was to make the blood of the victim more noticeable.

When Arabella had first started carrying out the duties of a Death Eater, at about 6 years of age, she had felt terribly guilty and disgusting inside, but now it didn't seem to bother her in the least, she was numb to guilt, and she was above it, in her own mind, just as she was above most things.

Her afternoon with Narcissa passed without much event, with pointless forced chatter regarding unimportant things such as Hogwarts, Arabella's father, and Narcissa's son, among other things.

That evening, the ceremony began. A very large number of Death Eaters were standing around a stage where a middle-aged muggle man lay bound by ropes.

As Voldemort introduced his daughter, Liv Arabella walked to the stage and toward the man. The terrified look on his face was pathetic, in Arabella's eyes, and made her want nothing more than to end his worthless life.

She so wished that she could just skip the torturing step and simply end it with a quick Avada Kedavra, she knew that if she did, she would be punished endlessly.

Arabella commenced the ritual by removing the ropes from the man, though not before casting a quick 'Locomotor Mortis' to prevent his escape.

Approximately an hour later, Arabella was exhausted. The man in front of her was likely unconscious, as the screams had ended a while before, and he was covered in blood, as was she. She then decided that it was finally time to end it, and cast a quick 'Avada Kedavra' at the man. She was relieved as a small green light shot from her wand and hit the man square in the chest. It was over.

A deafening cheer erupted throughout the hall, but all Arabella wanted to do was sleep. She knew, however, that that night would be a long one.

She was disgusted when she realized that she, as the Letum Affero, was expected to wear the blood covered dress all evening, but she decided that it would be best not to argue about it.

Upon stepping off of the stage, she was met by many congratulatory words and approving glances, but none of that had ever really mattered to her. She didn't much value the respect of her father's servants, _her_ servants, as they were just that; worthless little servants.

As Arabella sat down at a small booth in the back of the hall, she let her thoughts wander all the way to the upcoming year. Arabella had never been sent to a proper school before, but this year she would be attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She'd never really known many children her own age, as she was normally only allowed to associate with the older Death Eaters, but she was quite looking forward to meeting lots of new people during her stay at the school.

Arabella didn't see herself as the type to have actual _friends_, as she had always considered herself extremely independent and, of course, above every other living being, with the exception of her father, for now at least.

She was pulled quickly from her thoughts, though, as a small group of people sat down at the table around her.

"Well done, Arabella, in tonight's performance. I was most pleased." Hissed her father, who had been one of the few to join her at the table.

"Well, only a fool would have expected less, I'm sure. You have, after all, raised me to be a magical genius, I could defeat any one of your Death Eaters single handedly." Came the girl's light response, she had never been one to be modest.

At this, one of the older men in the circle grunted lightly, trying to contain his laughter. Arabella's sharp blue eyes snapped in his direction, her lip curling into a sneer.

"Would you like me to prove that, Lucius? It would be no trouble at all, in fact I'd quite like to defeat you in a duel, it would be _no_ challenge to me." She snapped harshly, standing up from her seat at the booth.

"No, no, Arabella, Lucius is a valuable member of my Inner Circle, and I will not have you debilitating him just months before our plan is executed." Hissed Voldemort sharply, ignoring her indignant huff.

"Father, I am a bit _concerned_ by the fact that I do not know anybody at the school that I will be attending this fall." Stated Arabella, changing the subject.

"Of course, girl, I've not forgotten this. That is why I've brought a few children to the table to meet you, they will be in your same year at school, or perhaps some will be a year older, but no matter." Replied her father, gesturing towards the few teenagers sitting at the table.

"We have Pansy Parkinson, here, you know the Parkinsons, her parents, I know. This is Gregory Goyle, you know his father as well, I'm sure. So please, _mingle_." Finished Voldemort, an odd look on his face.

"Actually, sir, I think that I'll be headed off to bed now." Replied Arabella, sending a disgusted gaze towards Goyle.

"Well then, _quiesco puteus_, our Dark Lordess." Answered Voldemort, nodding his head lightly in her direction.


End file.
